


Lick Your Wounds

by deepestfathoms



Category: Six - Marlow/Moss
Genre: Bessie is Baby, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Gen, Howard is the Mom Friend, Hurt/Comfort, NOT WEST END, Tour!verse, UK Tour, and has basically adopted Bessie as her daughter, the characterizations are way different
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2021-01-26 22:24:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21381583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deepestfathoms/pseuds/deepestfathoms
Summary: [TOUR!VERSE]Being the youngest of the group at sixteen years old, Bessie was usually the one to get bullied into doing someone else’s errands. This was one of those times.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 33





	Lick Your Wounds

“Yo Ellie, run in and get me my jacket. I left it in the dressing room.” Maggie flashed a big smile at the youngest of the group, who was staring up at her with a dejected, almost wounded expression.

“Why do I have to get it?” Bessie asked. Unlike anyone else who could have said that, she didn’t sound confrontational or stubborn, rather genuinely confused.

“Because you _are_ the youngest.” Maggie slapped a hand down on Bessie’s shoulder in what looked like a friendly gesture but was actually hard enough to make the frazzled bassist’s knees buckle a bit. “That puts you at the bottom of the pecking order. Now be a good girl and go fetch it for me.”

Bessie actually glowered at her for that, but didn’t look very intimidating with her sparkling doe eyes and baby face. She glanced at Cleves and Maria, who were standing by impassively. They didn’t seem to care at all that the bassist was being not-quite bullied into running Maggie’s errands.

(Of they don’t care. When have they ever?)

“Everyone’s waiting.” Aragon finally remarked gruffly. She was tapping her foot impatiently and probably counting in her head.

Bessie flashed Cleves and Maria a hurt look and glanced briefly at the other women. Joan was dutifully scribbling in a notebook that was balancing haphazardly in her right palm (watching her write with her left hand makes Bessie’s head hurt for some reason). Jane and Parr both watched her, Jane out of motherly concern for the obviously exhausted music director and Parr solely for the purpose of nitpicking whatever it was that Joan was writing. Anne was on her phone, not really caring about the delay, and Aragon has probably gotten to at least one hundred in her head by now. Katherine seemed to be the only one who cared about the confrontation, as she was giving Bessie a sympathetic look, but she wasn’t saying anything.

“Fine,” Muttered Bessie. She turned and stalked back into the theater.

“Let’s ditch her.” Aragon suddenly said, smirking toothily like a sinister lioness. She gets lightly elbowed in the rib cage by Jane for that one.

“You know, it’s not nice to bully her into running your errands, Maggie.” Jane said, “And I’m surprised at you two for allowing her to.” She glanced at Cleves and Maria. “She’s like your daughter, is she not?”

“She needs to learn to stand up for herself.” Maria said.

“She won’t do that if we fight all her battles for her.” Cleves added.

“Yeah,” Maggie laughed. “We’re just toughening her up a little.”

“How so?” Katherine spoke up, eyes narrowed in criticism. “This only ever ends two ways: with Bessie caving and doing whatever it is you tell her to do to avoid causing more problems, or with Aragon blowing up at her for not listening, which is horrible might I add, yelling, scaring the poor thing, then ruining the rest of the day for everyone.”

While Aragon shot the pink queen a glare for the ending comment, Maggie looked a little bit guilty, probably realizing it was true.

“If you said something, I’d lay off,” She said to Maria and Cleves.

“They shouldn’t have to say anything. You should know better to begin with.” Katherine went on, becoming completely defensive over Bessie at this point, “You always say you’re like the big sister of the band, but you don’t act like it.”

If Maggie was even guilty to begin with, then that was chased off by a sudden flare of anger. She ruffles, glowering at Katherine.

“I can’t fight all of Bessie’s battles for her.” Cleves said.

“Nothing wrong with sticking up for the kid.” Anne put in her opinion. A disapproving look was on her face.

Cleves and Maria exchange looks and then sighed. There was nothing to be done right now, so they all just waited for Bessie to return.

And waited.

And waited.

And waited a little longer.

Soon it became obvious that more than a reasonable amount of time had passed and Bessie still wasn’t back.

“Do you think she took off on her own?” Parr wondered out loud.

“It’s possible.” Agreed Maria.

“I bet the little brat’s messing with my coat or something.” Maggie hissed and Aragon seemed to enjoy how riled up she was, even over a simple jacket.

“We should go check on her. It’s been too long.” Katherine gave her verdict.

And with those words the queens and their ladies stormed the theater.

Well, not so much stormed, so to say, but anyone left in the lobby and house and backstage got out of their way when they saw the group coming because it was clear that they were on a mission and woe would befall any who got in their way.

They were right outside one of the dressing rooms when Jane made a motion for them all to halt. Her face had suddenly gained an expression of alarm as her sharp ears had picked up something before the others had heard it. But when they froze they could all hear it. Familiar voices, one more familiar than the other. The more familiar one was full of fear and pain, the less familiar one, still slightly recognizable, and evoking feelings of contempt and, in this case, rage.

“Stop struggling! This will be easier if you just relax.”

“No! Get off me! Just get off! Please!” Bessie’s cry ended in a pained whimper reminiscent of a hurt kitten’s mewling.

“No. Now stop struggling and let me…”

Whatever else the frog said was drowned out by the thunder of footfalls as the nine women charged at full speed (well, technically, eight women. Aragon wasn’t _that_ alarmed). Parr, having the longest legs, reached the door first and threw it open. She wished she hadn’t focused on something as trivial as a doorknob, however, because she was nearly trampled by Katherine, who was the first to storm through, having the next longest legs, but Maria and Cleves were right behind her, their panic pretty much giving them wings.

They all froze at the sight before them. Howard felt her rage building like a volcano as she took it in the most.

Bessie lay sprawled on her side, bleeding from a cut on her head, her slender form pinned underneath a male stagehand, Charlie was his name, maybe, who was on top of her, practically straddling her. Charlie was holding both of Bessie’s wrists in one hand as Bessie weakly tried to fend him off. The young bassist looked especially small and helpless while trapped beneath Charlie, her face clouded with terror and pain. Her eyes were huge and glassy as tears trickled down the sides of her face.

Oh how Howard wished she had her croquet mallet right now.

“Why you…” Cleves started to growl and was about to charge forward and full on attack Charlie, consequences be damned, when suddenly…

“**_I’LL KILL YOU!_**” Howard surged forward and rammed into Charlie with a sort of flying tackle, knocking him clear off the helpless Bessie. When they landed it was Howard who ended up on top. “You are _**DEAD**_, you bitch! I am going to _**KILL**__**YOU****! **_That’s my _daughter _you were touching! I always knew you were a pedophilic creep, but this just proves it! And now I’m going to **_FUCKING KILL YOU!!_**”

As much as the others, even soft-spoken Joan and Bessie-hating Aragon, would have liked to join in the fray and deliver a few (dozen) blows of their own to Charlie, it was clearly neither necessary nor possible. Howard pummeled him repeatedly, screaming insults and death threats. Charlie feebly tried to defend himself but it was quite clear that he was gravely outmatched. Howard’s fury was a ruthless, wicked thing, and it was not to be denied.

Maria was the first to realize that there would be no turn taking in beating up Charlie. Howard was taking care of that herself, and anyone who tried to interfere was more likely to get caught in the crossfire, so Maria decided to make herself useful another way. She hurried over to Bessie, who has curled up into a tight, shivering ball with her face buried in her arms. Blood and something else dripped from her hair and skin.

When Maria went to her she nearly fell down, too. It was then that she realized Bessie was lying in a slick of lotion, courtesy of someone apparently knocking the bottle over and having the contents spill out over time. After realizing that, Maria proceeded with caution and knelt down beside Bessie. Naturally, the girl flinched away in her panicked state.

“Shh, shh,” Maria hushed her when she whimpered.

“M-Maria?”

“It’s okay, sweetheart. We’re here.” Maria told her soothingly. “You don’t have to be afraid anymore.”

Bessie stared up at her and that gave Maria the chance to notice that there was something wrong with her eyes. Not only were they significantly foggy and glazed, her pupils seemed to be dilated different amounts, too.

“Oh, Bessie…” Maria murmured, worriedly eyeing the reddened portion of Bessie’s bleached hair. “Can I touch you, darling? Is it alright if I hold you?”

Bessie seems to consider it, or maybe she’s just drifting off because of her possible concussion, but she eventually nodded and Maria carefully pulled her halfway into her lap.

“She okay?” Asked Jane. She had given up on hoping to get a chance to throw her hands and moved to stand near them, recognizing the lotion puddle on her own without having to nearly fall in it, and carefully navigated around it to kneel beside them.

The others were doing their best to make themselves useful. Parr was currently inspecting the puddle of lotion, eyebrows knitted together like the clouds of a thunderstorm. Cleves stood closer to Howard and Charlie just in case something happened and Charlie managed to get the upper hand, while Maggie, who was also near the tussling duo, was waiting to see if an opportunity arose for her to land a kick or two of her own. Anne and Joan retreated backwards to Bessie and Maria, while Aragon just watched, an unreadable emotion flickering in her eyes. However, it was the golden queen who took notice on another presence in the room.

“Stop! Please, you really must stop! There is an explanation you need to hear!”

Aragon grabbed the startled stagehand, a girl named Trina, by the collar of her shirt and drew her in close.

“So you’re on his side, huh?” She snarled.

“What? No!”

“Where did she come from?” Anne asked as Cleves walked over to back up Aragon.

“Does it matter?” Maggie said, cracking her knuckles, “I’m ready to bust pretty girl’s head.”

“Will you cut it out?” Jane sighed, “She just got in the room! Catherine, put her down.”

“But she’s with him!” Joan argued, daring to go against her queen. “You saw what he was doing to Bessie!”

“No! No!” Trina shook her head frantically, clawing at the hands gripped on her collar, “Charlie wasn’t- Charlie wasn’t trying to molest Bessie!” The use of that word seemed to fuel Howard’s rage, despite what was being said. “This is all just a misunderstanding!”

Aragon stopped baring her teeth like a furious lion and drew her head back a little. She looked at Cleves, then Charlie and Howard, then Bessie. Her gaze lingered on the girl a lot longer than she would like to admit.

“Let her go, mum.” Parr said and Aragon listens. Her goddaughter comes up beside her, adding to the pack of Tudor women surrounding Trina. She crosses her arms over her chest. “You better start explaining real fast if I were you.” She glanced at Maggie cracking her knuckles as if to emphasize her point.

“Charlie and I were talking when we heard Bessie cry out. She must have slipped in the lotion and hit her head. Charlie went to try to help her but he slipped, too, and landed on top of her. Then Bessie woke up and was scared and confused and started trying to make Charlie get off her, but Charlie was determined to treat her wound and was trying to subdue her for that reason alone!” Trina babbled out.

Howard paused in the act of pummeling Charlie. “Is this true?” She asked, but Charlie was unconscious and in no condition to answer.

“Just look at them,” Trina continued in desperation. “Bessie is practically covered in lotion and that cut on her head will match the edge of the table. There might even be some of her blood where she hit it!”

Anne was the one who warily moved to check, and, sure enough, on the makeup table right there was a smudge of blood on the corner, as well as several silvery white strands of hair stuck to the wood. When Maggie glanced over, she felt a twist of guilt when she noticed her jacket, still on the chair right next to the table Bessie had hit her head on. If she hadn’t sent Bessie to get her jacket then the girl wouldn’t be lying on the floor, bleeding from the head.

“It’s true, Kat,” Anne said to be cousin, “Bess hit her head on this table.”

Howard didn’t look completely convinced.

“Is that true, Bessie?”

“I-I don’t… It…it was Henry… He-…my head…” Bessie mumbled, eyes shutting tightly in pain.

Howard snapped her head back down to glare at Charlie and raised her fist again, but Cleves grabbed her wrist.

“Come on, Katherine,” The red queen said, “That’s enough. You know Henry isn’t here; Bessie is just scared. She probably wants you right now.”

That seemed to be enough to get Howard to stop. She clambered off of Charlie and hurried over to Bessie, who she promptly scooped up into her arms and held close to her chest.

“We should get her to the hospital,” Maria said.

“Don’t let her fall asleep,” Jane added. “People with head injuries aren’t supposed to sleep.”

Katherine nodded and started to walk out of the theater. She feels Bessie curl up in her arms, resting her head on her chest.

“Your heart’s beating real fast, mama…” She half-mumbled in her oncoming daze.

“I know,” Katherine said, finally breathing out a breath of relief. “You scared me, sweetheart.”

“Sorry…” Bessie whispered. She felt a kiss press to the crown of her head, which momentarily made the pain radiating through her skull go away.

“Don’t apologize.” Howard said, “You didn’t do anything wrong, my darling. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

The others soon joined her outside to get a ride to the hospital. Everyone except Aragon, who stayed behind.

“You’re sick.” She spat.

Charlie groaned, slowly starting to regain consciousness. His breath hitched in shock when the golden queen’s hands snatched him by the collar.

“Your little friend may have been deceived by your true intentions, and maybe even the other queens and ladies, but don’t think for a second I’m that stupid.” She snarled, “I know what you wanted to do. I’ve seen the way you look at Elizabeth. You’re disgusting.”

Charlie laughed darkly, even with his numerous injuries. His head lolled to the side and he gave the queen a crooked smile.

“I have you to thank for that, don’t I?” He crooned, “You were right about her. Such a needy little slut… Mmmm, you should have heard the way she moa-” He cut himself off with a sharp groan of pain and a bloody cough when Aragon stomped on his groin.

“I’ll have you hung.” She seethed, eyes alight.

“You don’t have that kind of power here, m’lady,” Charlie wheezed out with a laugh.

“Then I’ll just rip your balls off and feed them to you.” Aragon warned, “I mean, since you want to deepthroat Elizabeth so badly, why not try it on yourself? I bet being choked and not being able to breathe will be very arousing.”

Charlie clenched his teeth, glaring at the queen through the blood and both black eyes.

“I thought you hated that whore.”

Aragon set her jaw and then snorted. She turned around to leave Charlie.

“Me too.”


End file.
